JOKER: Anarchy In Gotham
by Choco Scorpion Bat
Summary: A twisted, sick collection of dark tales. enter the disturbed mind of Joker and his goonies. What goes on when Batman isn't there anymore? What secrets are hidden from the public? Reader beware, you're journeying into a forbidden area. You better be prepared for the atrocities of the JOKER. CONTAINS GRAPHIC MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR SOME READERS. UPDATE: Changed Ch. 2 to Ch. 1.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks to whoever read Chapter 1 and much thanks to JokerKid988 for this one!**

JOKER

Anarchy In Gotham

By

Predy96

CHAPTER 2

(suggested by JokerKid988)

The green-haired psychopath sat back in his prison cell, located deep below Arkham. His face was in shadow, and a maniacal grin was etched on his features. His face was painted stark white, and his lips were painted in blood. The maniac licked his lips, savoring the plasmatic taste. The man chuckled darkly, his insane grin growing even wider, pulling his wounds taut. They seriously thought that they could contain him?! THE IDEA WAS LAUGHABLE! He let loose a high pitched cackle, his body racking with hysteria. He slapped his knee, still howling with laughter, though there was nothing funny to laugh about. Eventually, he settled down, and leaned back, putting his fingers together. He stretched his long legs out, grinning still. It was time to wait.

Several hours passed. A dark shape approached his cell. It was a guard, a rookie by the looks of it. He slid the key card into the slot and entered. He looked terrified. He should be. The rookie held a plate of food.

"Y-You stay there!" he stammered. Joker didn't say a word.

The rookie made the mistake of turning around, revealing his weapon. Joker made his move, leaping up and crossing the cell in two strides. He grabbed the rookie's neck and wrenched his head back.

"Thanks for the visit, PAL!" he said, and howled in crazed laughter. He slammed the guard's head into the concrete wall, relishing his cry of pain, and promptly snapped his neck. Joker tossed the body on the floor, screaming in laughter. He grabbed his gun and walked out of his cell, free. Well, not completely. First he had to break out of this hell. He checked the rounds while walking out of the cell. Good, they were all there.

Oh, the fun he would have tonight!

He reached the elevator, slightly disappointed that he had not encountered anybody on his way there. He smashed in the card reader and the doors opened almost immediately. A cheerful ding greeted him, along with two guards, who looked surprised, then horrified when they realized who was facing them. The 6 ½ foot tall maniac whooped in laughter as he shot the two men to pieces. He whacked the first guard in the face, then slammed his knee into his gut, before decorating the wall of the lift with his grey matter. Then, he turned to the dying companion, who slid down the wall. Joker crossed over to him, and knelt, grinning in his disturbed way. He got up close to the man, his long nose barely touching his. He licked his chops, chuckling murderously.

"I'm sorry. I don't believe I received an invite to your little hoop la of a party!"

He cackled in delight at his joke, and released a round into the guard's forehead. He instantly stopped laughing, and looked in surprise at the dead man. Then laughed again.

He grabbed the body and tossed it across the lift, whooping and hollering. Blood splattered the walls and collected in pools on the floor. The lift doors opened and presented him to a group of more guards. They collectively gasped in horror at the sight they beheld: Joker, hunched over slightly, hands by his sides, holding a large pistol, with a bloodbath behind him.

"Hello, boys! Let's party!" he shouted, emptying rounds into several guards. He grabbed another gun, an automatic pistol and sprayed the place with bullets. Soon, every guard in the room was dead or dying. They never knew what hit them. Joker again went into a cackling frenzy as he sauntered out of the room.

This was just too much fun!

Before he reached the second lift, he stopped beside a set of drawers. Not caring what was inside, he wrenched it open, tossing the contents askew. Paper, pens, pencils, and the like scattered out, along with… a knife. Not just any knife, though. A switchblade. Joker knelt, and picked up the tiny weapon, grinning sadistically.

Now the fun could really begin.

The psychotic murderer calmly exited the room, whistling a tune.

…

_Joker held the detonator, screaming in laughter, as the citizens tried to flee the hospital. Staff evacuated the sick as he calmly sauntered his way through the large automatic glass doors. The sun shone brightly in the sky today. Perfect for a completely unnecessary explosion! Jolly good show!_

_He pressed the button._

_Nothing happened. Curious, he turned around, pointing the switch at the building, and pressed it again. Still nothing. Beginning to get angry, he tossed it on the ground, and stomped on it. The building collapsed as a series of gigantic fireballs shot through the air, throwing rubble and debris all over the place. Joker stumbled back, cheering and whooping at the sight. He fell over, cackling in delight as the hospital exploded. Burn! Burn! Burn, baby, burn!_

_It was over just as quickly as it had begun. The freak picked himself up, dusting off the stolen nurse's uniform. He turned around to face the chaos he had created, delighted by the results. Fires were spread all over the place, and the hospital was but a shell of the original building. Thick black smoke rose in billowing columns from the debris._

"_What a picturesque scene! I do believe I've outdone myself!" Joker lauded. He kicked some rubble in malicious delight, and walked off._

…

Joker cackled as the bullets whizzed by his head. He whipped out his pistols and shot round after round at the guards, not caring who got hit. Eventually, blood ran in rivers across the floor, and streamed down the now shot up walls. He was about to kick the door in, when a hand grabbed his pants leg. He looked down to see a middle-aged guard. He spit up blood. Joker paused and then grabbed the man with inhuman speed, and ran him up against the wall with brute strength. Joker got very close to the terrified man.

"Man, oh man! You guys just don't know when you've lost!" Joker cackled. The guard weakly spit blood on his face. This only made Joker howl in delight. Suddenly, the switchblade was against the guard's mouth.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" he growled sadistically. "You remind me of my grandfather. My grandfather was a _prick_!"

He slipped the blade into the man's mouth.

"One day, my grandfather was pissed off. I was the only one around, so he went at me. He had a steak knife and we went 'Why the frown? Let's put a _smile_ on that face!' So, he grabbed me, and put the knife to my cheek. 'No need to frown! Let's put a _smile_ on that face!' He stuck the blade in and said 'Be happy! Put a _smile_ on that face!'"

Joker cocked his head.

"So, why the long face? Let's put a _smile_ on that face!"

…

**A/N: So that's Chapter 2. Please, leave a review. I don't care if its harsh or nice. Just tell me what you guys thought. Also, leave ideas for a new story if you want to.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm sorry for the really late upload for this story, but some things came up. Anyway, expect this one to be a little more intense and violent than your average Batman story. There will be unspeakable acts committed by Joker, but that does not mean I endorse (nor do I condone) them. In fact, I am dead set against all forms of crime (YES STEALING A MILKY WAY IS A CRIMINAL OFFENSE!).**

JOKER

Anarchy In Gotham

By

Predy96

CHAPTER I

When order exists, chaos doesn't. So, it is only logical to assume that if there is order, then there must be somebody to enforce it. Then, it also seems logical to assume that if there is a law-enforcer, then there must be somebody to _oppose_ that law-enforcer. That is a given. That is a _law_. However, if there is no order, and no law-enforcer, then shouldn't chaos be the supreme way of things? There is a name for this way of things. Anarchy. Without order, then Anarchy is the law. That is also a given. With nobody to stamp out the Anarchy, Chaos will eventually run rampant. And if Chaos runs rampant… Well, I'll leave you to determine the end result.

So, with that in mind, let's return to the scene, shall we?

…

The gun was level with the woman's head. The terrified teller dared not make a sound, for fear of what would happen if she did. The thug that held the weapon checked his watch in impatience. They had come here to hit it big, not dawdle! Where the hell was Clumsy at?! He looked down at the cowering woman before him and chuckled maliciously.

"Don't even think of trying anything funny or I'll blow your frikkin' brain out of your skull!" he growled. And he meant it, too. You see, he wasn't called Gory for nothing. Of course, Gory wasn't his real name. It was Alex Kipper. He had been convicted as a serial killer and was sentenced to 134 years in Gotham Prison for the Criminally Insane. He had "been found guilty of the following crimes: rape, theft, forgery, assault and battery, third degree, assault and battery, first degree, child abuse, molestation, wife beating, 142 murders, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to be an accomplice...".

The list went on and on. The judge went on to name more than 66 crimes, including "crimes against humanity". Gory laughed inwardly. He had vowed that if, no, when, he escaped, he was going to slit her throat, slowly, of course, so that he could enjoy watching her splutter and die in a pool of her own blood. He would of course proceed to stab her with her own butcher knife. He would savor the screams, the pathetic attempts to fight back. The look of utter terror in her eyes when she finally realized that nobody would be coming to rescue her.

The slap on his back jolted Gory back to reality. It was Dimwit. Ironically, Dimwit was the brains of the operation. Gory looked at his clown mask.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"C'mon man! Smokey needs help getting that blasted safe open."

Unbeknownst to Gory and Dimwit, the teller was waiting for a chance to grab the gun. Now, it had come. She quickly reached for the weapon, an animalistic scream escaping her mouth. Gory spun around, and grabbed her hazel locks in rage. Dimwit watched, curious as to his next course of action. Gory brought the female teller's face to his mask, which was painted to look as if a blood bath had occurred. He breathed in her scent. It made him sick. Perfume.

"Bitch! I warned you! Now you're gonna pay!" he tossed her body onto the desk, and aimed his pistol. Dimwit grabbed the gun. Gory quickly looked at him.

"What's the meaning of this?!" he spat.

"Let's not be so quick to perform an execution my friend. What do you say we have a little fun with her?" he suggested. Gory averted his gaze to look at the young woman. She was probably about 18 to 24 years old. She had a very nice body, to say the least. He averted his gaze to her breasts. They were indeed quite delicious to take in. He thought maybe they were about C-cups. He allowed his eyes to trail down her body, taking in every detail. Large breasts, hourglass shape, great hips, and such long, creamy legs. He looked at her butt. Very round, excellent curve. He thought about what it be like to squeeze it. He was getting excited. He hadn't been this excited since...

...

_Alex crept along the shadows, not wanting to be found. He inched along the dark walls, feeling his way through the gloom of the alley. Honestly, he had no idea why he was here, except that he was. He paused under a window when a car drove by. He need not have worried. The mist produced by the cold rain concealed him well. He heard a moan, and stepped out from under the window, curious to see what produced it. He grabbed a tossed out stool and stepped up, for at 18, and being only 5' 8, he could not reach the second story. Upon stepping up, he heard another moan. To his delight, the curtains were not closed. Laying on the bed, in full view, was a girl, completely naked, and she was pleasuring herself. Her breasts were a fair size, and she was clean-shaven, with a rocking body. She had her eyes closed, so she could not see her peeping audience. She reached her climax, and let out a cry that sent Alex into a horny frenzy. He shattered the window and quickly crawled into the masturbating girl's room._

_Her eyes flew open to see a boy rushing to her bed. She cried out and crawled backwards, trying to put some distance between her and the now topless teen. Alex ripped his pants off and grabbed the terrified girl's legs, opening them wide for his throbbing member. He thrust inside her, savoring her screams of pain and mixed pleasure. He felt her muscles clench tightly against her manhood, and immediately released inside her. The girl screamed as she came again, too, her liquids pouring..._

...

"Gory! Hello? Are you there?" Dimwit said. Gory was again wrenched back to the present. He looked at Dimwit and chuckled darkly.

"Let's do that!" he said.

"NO! Stay away from her, you maniacal monsters!"

Both Dimwit and Gory averted their gazes to see a disheveled teller rushing to them. The man had a look of fury in his eyes. Dimwit looked bored.

"Gory?" he said. Gory grinned behind his mask and pointed his weapon at the male teller. He shot him several times in the chest, and once more in the head. The man squeaked, as if he was surprised and fell to the floor, dead before his corpse was even finished falling. He landed with a sickly squelch, his brains sliding to surround his shattered cranium. Blood pooled in large puddles around his corpse, soaking his shirt and suit. Someone vomited at the sight. Gory cackled at the events.

"What a fool! How pathetic!" he screamed in laughter. He slammed his fist on the oak table, still laughing. Dimwit stared.

"Gory," he said.

Gory looked at him.

"What?" he said.

"Let's go."

"..."

Gory nodded and grabbed the young girl by the hair, and dragged her screaming to the van.

...

_Their dead. All dead. All of them. Dead. Dead. Dying. Blood. Dead. Dying. Death. All of them. Mama. Susy. Mama. Pop. Dead. Blood. Dead. Dying. They're all dead. Bloody. Gory. Guts. Blood. Death. DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEADDEADDEADDEADDEADDYINGBLO DDEADDEADHACKEDTOPIECESBLOOD BLOOD!_

_Alex stood over his dead mother's body, watching as her blood seeped into the cracks of the floor. He felt nothing. He should've felt disgust. He was ten. He was big enough to understand the horrifying act he just committed. He looked at the blood covered hatchet he held in his hand. It dripped with maroon. He felt the blood of his mother run down his cheek, blurring his vision partly. His mother's eyes were locked open in a horrified gaze. Her mouth, too, was stuck open, emitting a silent scream of agony and terror. The whites showed, shot through with blood vessels. Still, the boy felt nothing. His half-lidded eyes continued to gaze at the hatchet._

_"A-Alex?" came a small voice from the doorway. He turned around to face his six year old sister, Susy. Her sad gaze turned to one of terror when she saw his blood streaked face and clothing. The blood ran down his right arm to drip from the murder weapon. His gaze did not revert from the half-lidded sight._

_"Susy," he whispered. He looked once again to the hatchet. "What... What happened?" he asked. He looked once more to the hacked up corpse of his mother. "Did... Did I do this?"_

_Susy did not answer. She whimpered, frightened by this new turn of events. Her red hair shone in the soft light leaking in from the cracked door. It cast Alex's face into stark contrast, making his flesh pale, and the blood a deep res as it streamed down his skin .He sighed deeply. The hatchet slid slightly in his hand as he walked slowly to his baby sister._

"_Susy…" he breathed. "Susy…"_

…

Gory screamed, slamming his head into the concrete wall repeatedly. He clutched his face, his pupils dilating. He slammed his head into the wall again. Gotta get these thoughts out! Die! Die! Go away! Die! He ran to the table and grabbed a knife. He ran it through his hand, screaming some more as the deep red blood gushed. Destroy the thoughts! He pulled the knife out and ran it through again. Again. Again. He tossed it away and grabbed a concrete block. He threw it on his leg, screaming as the bone snapped. Why won't the thoughts go away?! Blindly, blood obscuring his vision, he ran across the room. He didn't care what happened as long as the thoughts died.

…

The metal door creaked open as the janitor walked in. The janitor never spoke; there was no need to. He flipped on the light switch. The room was bathed in its weak glow. It was not much better than a small flashlight, but it was good enough. He saw Gory's body, hanging on a meat hook, the hook angling out of the back of his head. He grunted, and lowered the hook, pulling the body off and dumping it into the can on the trolley. Job complete.

Somewhere, he thought he heard crazed laughter echo in the building…

…

**A/N: So that's Chapter 1. Please, leave a review. I don't care if its harsh or nice. Just tell me what you guys thought. Also, leave ideas for a new story if you want to.**


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